


Dizzy Spells

by Kitsfics



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dubbing this ship Cersa, F/F, Gym Setting, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Prompt Sansa and a personal trainer or self-defense trainer, Sansa is a bi disaster, This is my bi dream, Written for Red Wulf's Pack, might update later - Freeform, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27477544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsfics/pseuds/Kitsfics
Summary: Sansa's sophomore English students want to start a girls' boxing club, but they need a sponsor. No one else will help, so Sansa feels bound to help them. Only problem is, she knows nothing about boxing. Maybe the beautiful blonde kick-boxing trainer at her gym could help...
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Sansa Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25
Collections: Pack Member Stories





	Dizzy Spells

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of fluff I wrote based on a prompt we brainstormed in Red Wulf's Pack. If you haven't heard of it, it's a super-fun Discord server organized by Red Wulf. All ships are welcome, but we mainly ship anything Sansa related. This was so much fun to write, and my first true one-shot. Hope you like it!
> 
> Here's the link for the server if you're interested. It expires in 24 hours. If you need a new one, just add a comment, and I'd be happy to throw up a new link.
> 
> [New Discord link, good for 24 more hours](https://discord.gg/Q9CA8sRk)

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of Sansa’s head, threading its way through her hair. She could feel it touch each one as it went, tickling terribly. But she couldn’t let go of the bar, she had 5 more reps to go. With each subsequent rep, she could feel her muscles trembling, the effort of pulling the bar down behind her head growing harder and harder to muster. Maybe a third set had been too ambitious.

She finally made it to the last rep, and let the bar extend above her head again, letting the weights attached to the bar by way of a tension cord fall back into their resting position, stacked neatly beside the weight machine. She shook out her arms gratefully, now almost enjoying the ache in her muscles. It felt like stretching a rubber band way too far, and then letting it shrink back to normal size.

Sansa stood up from the bench, slowly, still a little stiff from the leg exercises she had done the day before. She grabbed a sanitizing wipe and rubbed down the handlebar and seat of the machine, to make it clean for the next person. She collected a few personal possessions: bottle of water, hand towel, locker key, and pulled her phone out of her pocket, checking her texts as she wiped down her forehead and the back of her neck.

The gym wasn’t hot, but Sansa never found it as cold as her liking. She enjoyed warm surroundings, of course. She was a Northerner, not a sled dog. But she had found when she moved south that her definition of warm and everyone else’s was just slightly different. Whenever she had someone over to her flat, they always said the same thing. And she was usually just a little uncomfortable in many public spaces, especially during the long, seemingly never-ending summer. Her air conditioner was almost always on.

As Sansa headed back to the changing rooms, she stopped for a moment to look at a bulletin board next to a window. It was one of those rooms where they held fitness classes: yoga and pilates (Sansa couldn’t tell the difference), aerobics and dance. Sansa always came to the gym at the same time (3:30, one of the perks of being a school teacher, getting off work earlier than most and avoiding the King’s Landing rush hour), she always quit working out around the same time, and on her trip back to the lockers, she always became inordinately fascinated by the cork messaging board on the wall by one of the classrooms.

It was a simple board, with advertisements for everything from roommates, to open mic nights, to free kittens. Sansa had actually found her little kitten Lady, who was now a full-grown young cat, pure white and proud of her aristocratic green eyes. But it was not pets that drew Sansa’s attention now.

She perused the board for a few minutes, then risked a glance into the class.

Men and women wore boxing gloves and helmets, clustered in pairs around the rooms. One half of the pair held up large rectangular pads about the size of Sansa’s torso, into which the other pair would direct punches. A tall, willowy blonde woman walked around the room, observing the exercises and giving pointers.

Sansa sighed a little at the sight of the beautiful trainer. She always wore her hair up in a bun, a headband taming the little wisps of hair that floated down from the bun half an hour into the session. Her skin was golden, freckles dotting across her nose, which arched between eyes of emerald green. It was hard to see those details from this distance, but Sansa knew of the freckles and the green eyes from the one time she’d seen the woman up close, one day when Sansa was checking in. She knew the woman’s last name was Lannister, and that she’d been chewing out another staff member for not making sure the classroom had enough towels before the start of her shift.

Sansa had stood at the desk far too long, pretending to have trouble finding her gym fob, with the barcode that she would scan to prove her membership. She couldn’t stop staring at the woman out of the corner of her eye. Long legs clad in skin-tight floral leggings, a red athletic top clung to her skin just as provocatively. Despite the warmth of the room, her skin had seemed abnormally matte, while Sansa felt she was already sweating.

“Misting,” she thought now, still pretending to examine a pamphlet for a student production of “The War of the Five Penny Kings”. “Ladies don’t sweat.”

She snuck another glance at the room then quickly looked away and started like a scared rabbit away from the board.

“Fuck,” she murmured to herself. Lannister had looked directly at her, with a gaze sharp as knives. Sansa had immediately, foolishly, dropped all pretense of studying the board. She trotted off to the women’s locker room, trying to look natural, but feeling like a teenager who got caught looking at porn.

  
  
  


“Miss Stark, we got a problem,” a voice cut into Sansa’s daydreams. Sansa looked up from her day planner and smiled at three of her favorite students. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked with a smile. The three girls, Ty, Sara, and Ella, were inseparable, and sporting three smirks, so Sansa knew it wasn’t anything too serious. Not like the time one of the older boys had been harassing them on the way from English to biology, and Ty pushed him into the lockers. The three had come to Sansa first, when the boy went to the principal’s office, and Sansa made sure Ty just got detention instead of in-school suspension. Or the time Sara flunked a test in math, and confided to Sansa that her mother would hit the fan if she brought home another failing test, Sansa arranged with the teacher to let Sara retake the test.

They were tough on the outside, and had been unruly in Sansa’s class for the first few months. But after the first week, Sansa always made a point to include them. If they were talking in the back, Sansa would stop class and refuse to continue until one of the girls told her what they had been whispering about. Sansa had no illusions that they ever told her the truth. Instead, they would rattle off some observation about the book they were covering at the time, and it was always so astute, that Sansa would grin, and praise them for their keen insight. Eventually, it was easier and easier to involve them in the lesson.

One day, after dismissing the class, the Snakes nodded at Sansa as they filed by her desk, on their way out of the classroom. The next day, when one of the boys started clowning around, Ella threw a balled up piece of paper at his head, and told him to shut up, she couldn’t hear teacher. Ever since that day, Sansa and the girls who had dubbed themselves the Snakes (Sansa never did ask about that).

Ty spoke up for the three, as she usually did. She was the tallest of the three, with the most striking features, including big, doe-eyes and a no-nonsense glare.

“We want to start a club.”

Sansa dropped her pen, stood up so she wouldn’t have to look up at Ty. All three had shot up over the year, their sophomore year, but Ty especially was almost taller than Sansa. “That’s wonderful. What kind of club?”

“A boxing club.”

“Don’t we already have a boxing club?” she asked.

Sara pulled a face. “We do, but it’s boy’s only.”

Sansa shifted her full attention to the girls, instead of thinking of her lunch waiting for her in the teacher’s lounge. “That’s terrible. Have you spoken to Principle Baelish about this?”

Ty rolled her eyes. “Littlefinger? Yeah, he said we can’t join the boys’ club, it might be ‘dangerous’ for us,” she said. Sansa snickered at the use of Baelish’s nickname and the air quotes around the word dangerous.

“He also implied that there was probably no real need for girls to have a boxing club,” Ty elaborated, cocking one silky black eyebrow. Sansa felt her own eyebrows rise alarmingly.

“He said that?” she retorted.

“ He said it was probably a waste of time, but we were welcome to it. We would have to start our own club, and we would need a sponsor,” Ella explained, laughing at Ty’s eyeroll.

“I’m sure Ms Sand will be your sponsor.”

Sara and Ella exchanged worried glances. “She can’t, she said she’s too busy,” Ty said in a rush.

Sansa stopped to consider, rubbing her neck in a distracted way. “She is running girls’ soccer, tennis, and track.”

“Right. So what we were thinking was,” the Snakes exchanged glances, “I mean, you’re not running any clubs.”

Sansa stopped to consider. It was true, the AP English teacher was sponsoring the Shakespeare, the Byronics, and the Raven Club, but Sansa, who had only been at the school three years, had not been entrusted with a club yet. She had never thought her first club would be a boxing club.

“I’d love to help, but I don’t know anything about boxing.”

Ty’s shoulders sagged, and Sansa’s heart sank. “Well, couldn’t you learn?” Sara asked.

“No, it’s ok,” Ty said, hiking her bookbag up over her shoulder. “We’ll find someone else.”

They headed towards the door. Sansa couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing them. Before she could think about it, she called after them. “Of course I’ll do it.”

The girls turned around, hopeful. “Really?”

“Yes. I have a friend who knows about boxing. I’ll have her advise me.”

It was only half a lie, Sansa thought as she remembered the beautiful, assertive kick-boxing teacher.

  
  
  


Four days later, Sansa found herself lingering by the bulletin board again, half an hour later than usual. The class was just ending, and Lannister was the last in the room, loading the pads onto a rolling cart. Sansa inspected a posting for a midnight showing of an arty horror film.

“Hey, Red!”

Sansa started at the sudden shout from the room. She looked up from the board. The blonde woman was staring at her, one hand on her hip. She cocked her head toward the room. “Get in here!”

Sansa considered running away, but thought of the Snakes, who were depending on her. She squared her shoulders and walked into the training room. She tried to assume a confident expression, but felt suspiciously similar to a miscreant about to be chastised

The blonde woman was even more beautiful that day. Her hair was up in a messy bun, a few loose curls tumbling around her face, framing her high cheekbones. Her cool green eyes turned on Sansa, and her ruby lips curved up at one corner.

“Come on in, I’m not going to eat you.”

Sansa entered the room, and stood by the door, feeling like a shy grammar school student again.

“Help me with these pads,” Lannister ordered, and Sansa found herself obeying.

“I’m Sansa,” she managed to croak out as she began to stack pads on the cart.

“Cersei,” the blonde woman replied, tucking a strand of gold hair behind her ear.

Sansa rolled that name around her head, came up with a million references, from the old Odyssey to a modern retelling of the old story, released to critical acclaim just a few years ago. By all accounts, the reference was the same: a sorceress, an enchantress, seducing a weary warrior away from his quest home to his wife. Sansa thought it was an apt name for the blond Amazon.

Cersei was still staring at Sansa. “And?”

Sansa panicked at the question, forgetting what had just been spoken prior to that one word command. “What?”

“Why are you here?” Cersei asked, gesturing impatiently.

“Oh. Um… I’m a teacher,” she blurted out.

Cersei’s firm mouth finally cracked into a smile. “You don’t look like it. What do you teach?”

“English. In high school, underclass.”

“How can I help you with your underclass English students, Sansa?”

“I have a few students. They’re a little… rough around the edges. Their good kids. But they haven’t had support before, parents basically don’t pay any attention to them…”

Sansa was rambling, she could tell. “Anyway. They’ve let me in, a little bit. At least, I think maybe they have. And they want to form a boxing club. And they can’t find a sponsor, so they asked me. Only I don’t know the first thing about boxing.”

Cersei loaded up the last of the pads. “Be here tomorrow at 4 PM.”

Sansa watched in astonishment as she left the practice room, leaving Sansa on her own, watching the other woman wheel her cart away to the staff closet. She had made a fool out of herself in a short five-minute meeting. How would she ever survive an actual class?

  
  
  


The next day, at 4 PM sharp, Sansa was in the practice room, wearing her cutest workout pants and little top, the kind that left almost her entire back bare. Her bright red hair was pulled up in a messy bun, little pieces kept falling into her eyes. She knew she looked pretty good, men cast her approving glances as she walked in, even a few women.

She waited in the practice room for several moments, enough time for her anxiety to reign its ugly head Cersei would never show, her anxiety insisted. Why would she care about Sansa or her problems? Why would she want to help a perfect stranger? Why would she want to be with Sansa when Cersei was beautiful, gorgeous, confident?

Sansa had only been in the practice room four minutes when Cersei poked her head in the room, beckoning to Sansa to follow her. Sansa followed the other woman, trying to keep her eyes off the round ass in front of her, to a room filled with punching bags.

Cersei took her position next to one, motioned Sansa over to her. She held up a pair of gloves, got Sansa to hold up her hands. She gently pulled each glove down over Sansa’s hands, tied them down, then motioned to the bag.

“Give a few jabs. Let me see what I’m working with.”

Sansa chuckled nervously, obeyed Cersei’s steely glare by poking at the bag with her knuckles. The behemoth barely budged.

“No, not like that,” Cersei said with a roll of her eyes. “Like this. It’s an enemy, not a stuffed animal.”

She demonstrated with a few solid hits that caused the bag to sway. Sansa tried again. Cersei stopped her again.

“No, hold your hand like this. Can’t have you breaking every bone in your hand, can we?”

Sansa tried again. “Good, better. Arms look good, but stance needs work.”

Cersei went to stand behind Sansa, so close Sansa could feel her breath on her neck. Sansa felt Cersei kick her gently between her feet, gently nudging one foot out to a wider stance. Then Sansa felt Cersei’s hands on her hips.

“When you punch, your hips should follow your movement. We want to put your whole weight behind it, get more power than just your arms. Now hit again.”

Sansa jabbed once more, and Cersei’s hands pushed her hips forward and then back in time with her punches. Sansa tried to pay attention to what the instructor was saying, but all she could think about was Cersei’s hands on her, her breath on her neck, wondered what those ruby lips would feel like on her neck. Sansa flushed terribly and punched harder, hoping Cersei would just think it was due to exertion.

Cersei resumed her position next to the bag, and Sansa lost herself in the workout. Soon, the bag was jumping, shuddering under Sansa’s hits. She was grateful for her rigorous arm workouts now, as Cersei put her through her paces. She didn’t let her up, leading her through half an hour of workouts. Sansa’s forehead was dripping by the time Cersei finally signalled an end.

“Thank you for helping me,” Sansa began, as Cersei began pulling the gloves off of her sore hands. “Please let me compensate you for your time.”

Cersei smirked. “Nah, I wouldn’t charge a schoolteacher. I donate my time to schools, I’d be happy to donate my time to you. And your students, of course,” she said with a sly grin as she picked up one of Sansa’s hands and examined her red knuckles.

“Your hands might be a little sore today. Apply a little ice, if it gets to be too bad, and don’t go punching anything for a few days at least.” Cersei’s hypnotizing green eyes flicked up at Sansa, who felt like she was just about ready to melt.

Cersei smiled and dropped Sansa’s hand. She found herself staring at Cersei’s pearly teeth. “Will I see you next week for another lesson? Same day, same time?”

Sansa nodded, grinning like an idiot. “Of course, if it isn’t too much trouble. I would really appreciate it.”

Cersei gave her a small, knowing smile, and chucked Sansa on the chin in a mock slug. “See ya round.”

Sansa stood in the middle of the practice room, one of Cersei’s business cards in her hand. Her brow wasn’t the only part of her that was damp.

  
  
  


The Snakes were overjoyed when Sansa reported the next day that she’d had her first boxing lesson. While Sansa was overjoyed at the enthusiasm of the girls, who had never previously shown any interest in school groups or clubs, she felt herself just kind of coasting through the rest of her day. How could someone look forward to working out with so much breathless anticipation.

Was Cersei a witch? Had she put a spell on Sansa? How else could Sansa explain her fascination with the woman, whom she’d spoken to only once?

After finishing up her classes, Sansa grabbed her gym bag and walked the three blocks to the gym. On the way, she resolved to get over this silly crush. Cersei did not reciprocate her interest, of that she was certain. She was just being polite, professional. However, as soon as she thought that, Sansa remembered that in matter of fact, Cersei had been anything but polite and professional.

Sansa quickly changed into her gear, then took a book and decided to spend an hour on the stationary bike to clear her head and avoid using her hands. The knuckles were pink, and Sansa thought that they almost looked like they were blushing too.

Sansa settled in with her book, propped up on the control panel, as well as her headphones, playing classical music just loud enough to drown out the loud gym sounds of sweaty straining men and women on the various gym machines around her. She was so engrossed in the story (about a witch trying to break a curse on her family) that she didn’t notice someone was standing right beside her until they moved into her light, their shadow falling over the page she was trying to read.

She rolled her eyes as she looked up. “Hey, can you…”

Her words died up as an instant blush rose to her cheeks. “Oh, hi.”

Cersei was standing over her, clearly looking amused. “Hi,” she responded in the same dreamy tone as Sansa, mouth curved in a wicked smile. Her eyes flicked to the elapsed time on the control panel, just peeking over her book, which Sansa hastily closed so Cersei couldn’t see what she’d been reading.

“You know, there’s a thirty-minute time limit during peak hours,” Cersei said. Sansa jumped up from the machine.

“Oh, of course. I mean, I didn’t think-” She looked out over the rows of stationary bikes, all empty except for two others.

Cersei laughed. “I was just teasing, that’s not why I’m here. Truth is, you weren’t stalking my kick-boxing class, so I thought I’d better come and see if you were all right. Make sure your hands are healing ok.”

She picked up one of Sansa’s hands, rubbing her thumb over the slightly pink knuckles as Sansa held her breath. Cersei applied light pressure.

“Does that hurt?”

Sansa shook her head, hardly trusting her voice at that moment. She held onto the handle of the stationary bike for support, but Cersei reached for that hand as well. Sansa stood, both of her hands in both of Cersei’s, expecting to melt into a puddle at any moment as the blonde woman professionally examined Sansa.

“A little tender, but no bruising. You’ll build up a tolerance soon. In a few weeks, you won’t even notice.” Cersei let Sansa’s hands go with a grin.

“Club starting soon?”

“What?”

Cersei grinned. “The boxing club that your students are starting. Hey, are you okay?”

Oh. Oh no. Sansa had become so distracted by Cersei and her mesmerizing eyes that she hadn’t paid attention to the signs. Small spots appeared in her vision, and colors were kind of bleeding and fading in and out. Sansa struggled to breathe.

“I- shit,” was all she managed to spit out. She tried to fall backwards and twist slightly to make it into the bicycle seat, but her feat twisted beneath her. The first thought she had before blacking out was that it wouldn’t be the first time she’d fallen flat on her face, but it would be the first in front of such a pretty girl.

  
  
  


The next thing Sansa became aware of was something cool brushing against her forehead. She murmured softly in appreciation as the coolness travelled further down her cheek. Sansa realized it must be a cloth. Someone was wiping her forehead with a cool, damp cloth, just like her mother used to do when she had an ‘incident’. Sansa remembered then that her mother was hundreds of miles away, and was most certainly not wiping her forehead now.

Her eyes shot open and the first thing she saw were green eyes. At this distance, Sansa could see flecks of blue and gold. They were surrounded by long golden lashes. Sansa thought she might faint again.

Cersei looked completely different now, face full of concern. “I checked your medical id on your lanyard, by the way. I hope you don’t mind. You scared the daylights out of me!”

Sansa tried to smile. “May I have some water please?”

“Of course.” Cersei set the cloth back in the little basin of water, leaned over to grab a bottle of water out of a little fridge by her side. Sansa looked about her and realized they were in a little room that resembled the nurse’s office at school. She was lying on a vinyl couch, a small fan directed at her, her feet elevated. Sansa could hear whispers behind the door on Cersei’s other side.

Cersei apparently heard the whispers too. After opening the bottle and handing it to Sansa, she pulled open the door. “She seems to be alright. Coming around now. Buzz off and don’t bother us!”

She shut the door firmly and turned back to Sansa, who was chuckling.

“I’m starting to think you run this place.”

“You’re just now figuring this out?” Cersei replied with a grin. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright, really. I just get these weird spells, always have ever since I was a kid.”

“Do they know what causes them?”

Sansa sat up slowly, ready to lie back down immediately if necessary. “Nope. I’ve seen every kind of specialist, had every kind of test done. I’m usually a bit better about knowing when they’re coming and getting somewhere safe before I keel over. It’s also why I live and work within five blocks and take public transport.” She smiled wryly. “Can’t drive.”

Cersei nodded. “Well, I’m glad I was there. I hope I didn’t-”

Sansa was quick to reassure her. “It really had nothing to do with you. It just comes and goes. I’m glad you were there too, much preferable to taking a header into the floor.”

Cersei nodded in understanding. “Well, I can’t just let you go, you know?”

“It’s not that bad. I’ll be fine.”

“Nope.” Cersei stood up, pouring out the bowl of water into a small sink and wringing out the cloth. “I’ll have to insist on walking you home. Have to make sure we avoid a lawsuit, right?”

Sansa smiled. Now that she had gotten used to Cersei and her odd sense of humor, she knew the other woman was teasing, mostly. Sansa shrugged and agreed.

“Well, if it’s to protect the gym, then I guess it’s ok.”

Cersei took Sansa’s locker key and went to retrieve her things while Sansa waited. Cersei returned with the bag.

“I packed up your clothes, hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, that’s right. I usually work out and then have a shower and go back to work. Sorry.” She cringed thinking of her good bra that she’d left hanging on the hook, to put back on after she’d washed away the sweat of her workout. If Cersei looked bothered by having to handle Sansa’s undergarments, she didn’t show it, just passed the strap of the bag over her shoulder and held out her hand to Sansa.

Sansa accepted the help to stand. Cersei watched her carefully, but Sansa wasn’t feeling at all dizzy. They left the little room, which Sansa noticed had a sign outside labelling it the “Medical Emergency” room.

Cersei told the young man sitting behind the front desk that she was walking a guest home, but that she would probably be back later. Outside, Sansa shivered slightly as her damp skin cooled in the chilly autumn air.

“Cold?” Cersei asked.

“No, I was warm inside. It feels nice out here. I’m from the North, it’s like this all summer.”

Cersei looked up at the sky. “They say winter is coming now. Won’t be long til we get the first snow.”

Sansa looked up at the sky and agreed. The last few weeks, the air had gotten a little crisper, the days a little shorter.

It was a quick walk to Sansa’s apartment, and Sansa talked through most of the walk. At first it started nervously, telling her new friend about the North, when she had moved south to take the teaching position, about the books she was teaching that year.

“What made you want to be a teacher?” Cersei asked. “Can’t imagine dealing with the hours, the terrible pay, the annoying children.”

“I like teenagers, little kids give me anxiety,” she admitted with a laugh. “I always hated whenever we had an English teacher who made reading boring. I knew so many kids that loved to read in elementary school, but stopped reading for fun after high school. I wanted to inspire kids to read, and to love books. Whatever books they want to read.”

Sansa stopped talking suddenly and stopped walking. “Sorry, I’ve been rude. I didn’t mean to monopolize the conversation.”

Cersei shrugged. “I didn’t mind.”

“Well, this is my building.”

Cersei nodded once, a strangely wistful and wise look on her face. “Well, thank you for letting me walk you home. I’ll leave you to it, if you’re sure you’re okay.”

Sansa nodded, but felt a strange panicky cramp grip her stomach when Cersei turned around to leave. Sansa stood still for a moment, as her reluctance to let Cersei go warred with her natural shyness. Desire won out, and Sansa called out Cersei’s name.

She had only walked a few steps, and turned when Cersei called her, a small smile on her lips. “You okay, Red?” she asked as she took the few steps back to stand in front of Sansa.

“No,” Sansa said slowly, with growing relief. “I don’t think i am. I think… maybe you should walk me up to my apartment. Just to be safe.”

“Of course,” Cersei replied with a knowing smile. “Just to be safe.”

  
  
  


Sansa had time to regret her impulsive decision as they stepped off the elevator on the fifth floor, and Sansa dug her house keys out of the workout bag Cersei was holding, a blush spreading across her cheeks. She remembered how dirty her place was as soon as the key turned in the lock. She was just turning to tell Cersei this, when Cersei grabbed Sansa’s hand, and put her arms around Sansa’s waist.

Sansa found herself staring once again into those big green eyes. She had to remind herself to breathe. “My place is messy.”

Cersei glanced in through the cracked door and shook her head. “That’s nothing compared to my place. Am I making you nervous.”

Sansa nodded. “In a good way,” she amended with a small smile.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But I like you. And I think you like me. And for an English teacher, you’re not very good with words. So I thought I would just show you. Is that ok?”

Sansa wrapped her arms around the blonde’s slim waist, feeling the cords of the muscles beneath the spandex top. Sansa leaned forward the last few inches, placing a small, delicate kiss at the corner of Cersei’s mouth, where a small dimple creased whenever Cersei smiled. Sansa leaned back, her heart hammering.

“I think maybe I should lie down,” she murmured.

“Ah, Red,” Cersei said with a sigh. “Thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said this was a one-shot, but I might add a smutty second chapter. I'll see how the writing goes. Thanks for reading!


End file.
